Category: Fictiony tingz
-
My English and Swahili Teacher
VoKe walked down the path. He’d walked it many times. In fact, he’d walked down it this morning. He’d walked up it again this afternoon. He was now down it again, with a large sack of books, and the afternoon sun keenly on his heels. Along the path is where VoKe first saw the hand…
-
a string of time
I met Nyamok at the GoodFood Restaurant yesterday. The one at the intersection of Kimathi Street and Kenyatta Avenue. The one that overlooks the Hilliebillie Hotel, where it costs more to buy lunch there than to buy my weekly portion of groceries. When I say I met him, I mean I stumbled into him in…
-
stealing a life
A pandemonium. Darting eyes, dashing feet. Rushing. shouts, shouting! Mshike!! Mwizi huyo! Ashikwe![1] The matatu has suddenly halted. All vehicles have. You – still intact – are tired. The mama next to you has her whole head out the window, following the noise with her eyes and craning her neck in all directions. She is…
-
days of the week
Monday, she could have sat anywhere, the bus was sort of empty, but she chose the seat next to me. I was going to Westlands because they needed a receptionist for one of the hotels and I figured why not, it’d be in the weekends, and they pay well, at least more than the barber…